


Now Not Yesterday

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Love Confessions, M/M, Regret, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Long ago Mycroft kept Greg at arm's length. He ended up marrying someone else. But tonight they have a second chance.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 24
Kudos: 156
Collections: JustMystradeThoughts Plot Bunny Adoptions





	Now Not Yesterday

Mycroft sat next to the crackling fire, rain beating hard against the windows. It was the sort of night that engendered morose introspection, as evidenced by the mobile in his hand and the scotch by his elbow. A night for could have beens and, perhaps, should have beens.

Picking up the scotch to sip it, Mycroft slowly flipped through a photo album on his phone. Bit not good, as John might say, but he couldn’t help himself. Every photo was of Greg Lestrade, some of them official, some of them not.

He let himself remember Greg’s warm friendliness when they first met, the hints of something more. But Mycroft had been focused on Sherlock and his job and had kept the man at arms length. Eventually, Greg had given up and moved on. He’d married someone else.

_All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage. That’s what people do, they get married._

The sound of the doorbell crashed through the house and his thoughts. Mycroft flipped to another app on his phone. Of all people it was Lestrade himself on his doorstep, looking positively soaked.

Mycroft stood quickly. Even if romance was long since off the table they’d always maintained at least a cool friendship. He grabbed another glass and poured a bit of scotch, leaving it on the side table, then pocketed his phone and headed for the front door.

Greg looked anxious as Mycroft opened the door and ushered him in. “She left,” he said.

It took Mycroft a moment to process what he was saying. “Ah. I’m… sorry?” he tried.

“Don’t be.” Greg put a damp hand on his chest, dripping onto the foyer. “I...I shouldn’t have married her. I didn’t want her. I wanted, well, I wanted you, Mycroft. I tried to make it work with her, but it was always you. I might not have slept around like she did, but my heart was never fully in it.”

Mycroft opened his mouth but Greg cut him off. “I thought maybe you felt the same way. I just… I needed some sign, something to show me I wasn’t just seeing things. I…”

This time it was Mycroft who cut Greg off, gathering him in his arms and kissing him deeply, with all the longing of years behind it.

When they broke apart, Greg gave a watery laugh, tears in his eyes. “That’s a pretty good sign.”

“I’ve always wanted you,” said Mycroft quietly, tilting their foreheads together, not giving a damn about getting his clothes wet. “I was a fool.”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right time for us, then. But I don’t want to wait anymore,” said Greg quietly, fisting his hands in Mycroft’s shirt.

“Neither do I,” said Mycroft, kissing him again. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch cold.”

Greg nodded and let go of Mycroft’s shirt, only to catch his hand as he turned for the stairs. Mycroft squeezed, hardly daring to believe all of this was real, tugging Greg up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He meant to simply let go of Greg and step into his closet to get him dry clothes, but Greg pulled him close and kissed him again and Mycroft found himself unbuttoning his soaked shirt, aware of how it clung to his body.

There was no discussion. Greg’s wet clothes were tossed vaguely in the direction of the en suite. Mycroft’s clothes piled on the floor. Then they were crawling under the covers, drowning in kisses, limbs tangling, Mycroft warming Greg’s bare skin against his own.

“God,” muttered Greg, running his hands up Mycroft’s chest.

“I need you,” whispered Mycroft. “I always have.”

“Shh, love, let's not talk about that. We have now.” Greg kissed him again. Mycroft ran his fingers through Greg’s hair, moaning softly as Greg settled between his thighs. Some part of him knew this was probably a bad idea, jumping straight into bed, but he couldn’t care less. Not with Greg’s length pressed against him and his tongue sliding into his mouth.

Greg took them both in hand. Mycroft moaned, rolling his hips. Tears pricked his eyes. Greg was here. He had him in his arms. This wasn’t just some vanishing dream.

“Got you,” whispered Greg, stroking them together until they came. Another time Mycroft might have been embarrassed by the speed, but not tonight.

Mycroft kissed him and eased Greg off his chest and onto his side. Greg gave him a satisfied smile that made his heart flip

“Let me clean us up,” Mycroft said quietly. He slipped out of bed, gathering clothes and getting them into the hamper. He cleaned off his stomach before bringing their mobiles and a warm cloth back to the bed.

Greg was already asleep, looking more relaxed and happy than Mycroft had seen for a very long time. Mycroft put their phones down, then leaned in and kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him as he cleaned him.

Finally, Mycroft slid beneath the covers again, settling Greg against his bare chest. As he fell asleep himself he prayed that they wouldn’t regret this in the morning.

**

Sunlight and calling birds stirred Mycroft. He’d rolled onto his side at some point in the night, but could feel Greg pressed against his back. Greg kissed his shoulder as he shifted. “Good morning,” he said quietly.

Mycroft rolled over to face him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Good morning.”

“I’m off work today. You?” Greg searched his eyes for any hint of regret. 

“I am.” Mycroft leaned in to kiss him. 

Greg sighed happily. “You’re really here,” he whispered.

“I feel the same way about you.” Mycroft broke the kiss and stroked his cheek with his thumb.

“You want this, really? You want me? After everything?” A trickle of fear slipped into Greg’s tone.

Mycroft reached back and blindly picked up his mobile. He unlocked it, went back to the album, and offered it to Greg. “You weren’t the only one who was afraid.”

Greg flipped through a few pictures, then put the phone aside and leaned in to kiss Mycroft again. “Okay, so we were both idiots. How about now?”

“Now we’re two people who have a second chance. I’m willing to take it.” Mycroft squeezed his hand.

“So am I. When I saw her note and knew she was gone. I was sad, but… I felt free. I came straight here.”

Mycroft hesitated, studying his face. “Greg… I love you.” He’d never said the words aloud before, even if he’d known the truth in his heart.

Greg blinked and smiled, leaning in for another soft kiss. “I love you, too.” He gathered Mycroft against his chest, hugging him tenderly. “Thank you. I know it hasn’t always been easy. I know we’ll have our ups and downs. But a chance, that’s all I needed.”

“You have a chance, just as you’ve always had my heart,” Mycroft spoke softly against his shoulder.

“Then we’ll be okay. What do you say we lie here a little longer, then we see about breakfast.”

“No place I’d rather be.” Mycroft breathed in the scent of him. Yes, there would still be hills to negotiate and troubles and joys. But most importantly they had one another. They had now.

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a prompt about maybe Mycroft warned Sherlock about John because Greg got married on him and then this happened.
> 
> Thank you to theartstudentyouhate for reading along. Come find me mostly on twitter these days at merindab.


End file.
